


Ill-Timed

by HiddenSt0rms



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Fever, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Post Series, Sick Edward Elric, Sickfic, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:13:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28372182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenSt0rms/pseuds/HiddenSt0rms
Summary: Ed has the flu and doesn't want to admit it.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric
Comments: 6
Kudos: 84





	Ill-Timed

Ed rested his head on the window, staring at the scenery flying by. As much as he would never time travel in a million years, this was a rare time when he missed the past. Sleep came easily to Ed when his soul was connected to Al’s, especially on long train rides when there was nothing to do except be lulled to sleep by the hum of the moving train car.

Not so much luck now.

Ed was unable to so much as drift off. He sighed and opened his eyes, glancing over at Al who was invested in an alkahestry book he’d bought during his recent trip to Xing. Al was always researching. He no longer took much interest in alchemy, now preferring to explore new topics without emotional baggage.

Ed too had tried reading at the beginning of the train ride, but the contrast of the still words against the moving train car made his head spin. Not much of a surprise there. It was only common sense that such a combination would result in motion sickness. Plus the train attendants hated having to pass out sick bags to passengers when they could have easily avoided such a predicament. Apparently Ed’s luck wasn’t as great as Al’s.

"Brother. What do you think this party is for?" Al asked when he realized that Ed seemed awake now.

Ed shrugged. He didn't know and didn't feel like figuring it out. "All Mustang said was that it was for Hawkeye."

Al looked at Ed questioningly. "Really? That's it? Or did you just not listen?"

"I don't know. You know I don't like to be on the phone with the Colonel bastard for long."

“General now,” Al corrected. "You should have given me the phone then. What if it's a celebration? We'd be rude not to bring a gift if we didn't know." Always so polite and thinking of others - truly the polar opposite of his brother.

"Then we'll swing by a gift shop or something on the way. Simple." Ed said nonchalantly. He wasn't particularly worried about looking rude like Al was. In fact, he lacked the energy to even invest any effort. 

Roy's unexpected phone call had interrupted Ed from his research, so Ed hadn't been in the best mood to engage in the first place. Odd that such negative feelings would sustain even a week later. Either that or Ed had become that much of a pessimist. 

"I wonder if it's a baby shower!" Al beamed. "But with who?"

"That answer would already be obvious and quite frankly - I don't even want to think about that. Please don't put that image in my head," Ed stretched and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "And besides, you know as well as I do that something like that wouldn’t be celebrated by them. Mustang didn't sound panicked over the phone so it couldn't be that."

"Oh." Al said, deflated. "You're no fun, brother. Maybe it’s Hawkeye's birthday."

"Eh. I doubt Mustang would call us all the way down to Central for something like that." Ed closed his eyes. He'd hung up the phone before Mustang could fully explain, muttering something along the lines of "We'll be there, bastard. Don’t get your boxers all twisted up. See you in a week."

"I wonder if she's being promoted,” Al continued despite Ed’s disinterest. “That's the only thing I can think of. Hawkeye doesn't seem like the type to throw parties in her own honor so of course Mustang would do it for her." 

"Sounds good enough." Ed mumbled. Whatever it was, he wished that he could at least get a little sleep before they arrived. He guessed he hadn’t slept well last night.

“Mm, you’re tired. Get some sleep while you can. You don’t want to fall asleep tonight.”

“Yep. That’s the goal.” Ed nodded in agreement, trying once again to erase his thoughts so he could relax.

It still wasn’t working. 

Ed wasn’t sure how much time had passed but didn’t feel like checking his watch. Even opening his eyes seemed like a lot of work. Coffee would be on the agenda when they arrived at the station.

Just as Ed was about to give up, Al nudged his shoulder.

“Wake up, brother. We’re here.” 

Ed’s body begged to stay right where it was, but he dragged his ass up and off the train anyway. 

They swung through a gift shop as planned. Al put in meticulous effort towards selecting the finest bouquet of flowers. Ed grabbed the first card he saw. 

"You have to read them all!" Al fussed as they waited in line at the register. "Or how else will you know which is the right one?"

"They're all the same, Al! I just picked one that looked pretty." 

"Have some compassion, brother. What if it was Winry you were shopping for?"

Ed hesitated. "Nah. She'd be much more interested in an automail magazine than a card. I'm sure Hawkeye won't care either. The kind gesture will be more than enough." 

"Mm-hmm. Sure." Al gave Ed a knowing look as they left the store. Al raised an eyebrow when Ed started in the direction of a coffee stand. "It’s too late for coffee, don’t you think? It's already afternoon." 

“I didn’t get any sleep. It’s worth it just this once.” Ed said. After he ordered a cup, he joined Al in a cab to get to their hotel. 

Already Ed was starting to have second thoughts about his change in habit. The caffeine sat like a rock in his stomach and the strong smell and bitter taste weren’t helping. He should have just avoided it like Al suggested.

Ed willed these thoughts away. It was too late now. He tried to take a sip when his stomach instantly revolted at the action. Oh well. He couldn’t finish it; so what? At least he had enough caffeine to sustain him through the party tonight.

Ed couldn’t quite put his finger on it...he just felt...odd.

Once Ed and Al checked into their hotel, Ed practically collapsed into bed. He didn’t even bother to kick his shoes off. His stomach still wasn’t feeling great despite being out of the car for a while, but he wasn’t about to tell Al that. 

What a pain. Ed wouldn't have expected himself to be jumping up and down for a sudden trip to Central, but to feel this down was a new level of irritating. He curled up on his side, opting to replenish somehow.

“Still tired, brother?” Al asked, setting his own suitcase on the bed adjacent to Ed’s. “How’s that even possible?”

“Pointless to ask about things being possible or not in this world.” Ed said, words muffled into his pillow. 

Ah. Evaded the question. "Are you okay?" Al asked.

"Yes Al. Winry kept me up last night being loud in the workshop. That's all." Ed grumbled, rolling over to face away from his brother. As much as Ed hated to be rude, he wanted to be left alone before he’d have to deal with stuffy military personnel all night. Especially when he felt as shitty as he did right now.

Al wasn’t convinced, but he knew his brother well enough to back down. “Alright. I’ll be quiet so you can sleep. But we’ll have to start getting ready in a little while, so I’ll wake you up then.”

Ed just hummed in response. He couldn’t even muster enough energy to get under the covers.

This time, Ed was able to drift off. But he couldn't stay this way for long before his body woke itself back up. He groaned softly in frustration. He'd finally gotten himself to sleep, so why was he awake?

That was when it hit him - literally. 

Ed wrapped an arm around his stomach, biting back a moan at the pain. No, no, no. Was it possible to get food poisoning from coffee? Sabotage! Ed wasn’t sure what he had done to make the coffee stand operator hate him. But it was the only possible solution. Come to think of it, Ed had forgotten to say please. Yeah, that had to be it.

Ed swallowed thickly. This wasn’t happening. Rather this wasn’t _going_ to happen. He took deep breaths. He held his breath. He counted backwards from ten. Fifty. One-hundred. He pinched random pressure points. His stomach would calm down eventually. He could ride this out. 

Ed bolted to the bathroom.

“Brother?” Al called worriedly, slamming his book shut. The word felt distant to Ed. 

Ed clutched the sides of the toilet for dear life. Sweat rolled his face as he dizzily stared into the water. Coffee really hadn’t been a good idea.

This couldn't be happening. This wouldn’t happen. Ed refused. He would not throw up in a nice hotel in Central. Not on their trip, not when Al was looking forward to seeing everyone again. Ed realized how selfish he had been earlier, being a downer on Al's optimism. He had to make it up to him. Somehow.

Ed held his breath and closed his eyes. He couldn't throw up if he didn't breathe, couldn't throw up if he didn't remind his body of muscle memory from getting sick in the toilet.

Though he couldn't suppress a weak, pained cough that threatened to become a retch. He froze. His heart beated wildly in his chest. His stomach did backflips. It didn't matter. These feelings would pass. Ed wasn't going to get sick. He wasn't. 

Ed fell to his knees as he gave into his first retch. Then another. And again…

“Are you okay?” Al's voice sounded through the door along with several knocks. Had Ed locked the door? He sure hoped so.

“Brother!”

Apparently not. 

Al let himself into the bathroom, gasping at the sight of his brother. How perfect. Ed wanted to demand Al to leave, but the next round of heaves replaced any possible words. 

“It’s alright.” Al murmured, moving to wet a wash cloth at the sink. The action was quick and instinctive. 

Ed could hardly catch his breath through the panting. He was miserable. He’d do anything for it to be over, for his body to calm the fuck down. It was so gross and unpleasant and downright unnecessary. 

Al didn’t seem to mind. He flushed the toilet for Ed before trying to hand Ed the cloth. Ed pushed it away.

“Go ‘way Al.” Was all Ed managed to rasp.

“Come on. Don’t be stubborn.” Al tried again.

“Ugh.” Ed grimaced, swallowing hard. Why was he already nauseous again? He’d already thrown up. Whatever was in his system should have been out...

“Relax. You’re done. It’s finished.” Al said gently. His demeanor threatened to change when Ed beat him to it. Ed already knew what was coming.

“Guess I should’ve stayed away from the coffee after all. You were right as always. I should’ve listened to you. I’m good now!” Ed’s words were clipped, all uttered out quickly in one laugh.

Al didn’t buy it in the slightest. “You’re shaking.”

“That’s what I just said. Caffeine was a terrible idea,” Ed forced himself to sit up. Deep down inside, he wanted to rest his head on the toilet seat. “But if you think this is bad, you should see the Flame bastard when he drinks too much coffee. Stupid man can’t even hold a pen! It’s hilarious - “

“You weren’t feeling well on the train.”

Ed stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t even a question. A statement, a blatant accusation stemmed from worry.

“What’s gotten into you, Al?”

“Me? What’s gotten into _you_?” Al retorted. “You’re clearly sick. It’s too late to keep putting on a front.” Suddenly there was more urgency behind Al’s words, but they were caring nonetheless.

“Don’t start. I’m not sick. We need to start getting ready soon or we’ll be late.” Ed muttered.

Al sighed. Even if there were better ways of communication, it was a force of habit from being in the armor for so long. “I’m not arguing about this.” 

Ed watched with tired eyes as Al stood from where he had crouched next to him.

“Wait. Al. Where are you going?” 

Al ignored him. 

Ed relished briefly at finally being left alone. He wiped his face with the cloth, panicking when he heard the tell-tale clicks of telephone buttons being pushed. He hurried out of the bathroom to see Al with the phone to his ear. 

“Al! Who are you calling?” Ed demanded. 

In a move that made Ed burst with anger, Al held up a hand, shushing him. 

“Al! Why are you calling 911?” 

Al looked surprised. “I’m not. Why? Do I need to?”

“What - no!” Ed yelled in both relief and anguish. “Who are you - “

“Hello General Mustang. It’s Alphonse. How are you?” Al said casually. 

Ed saw red. “ALPHONSE! If you don’t hang up so help me - “

“I’m afraid I have bad news.” Al went on, ignoring his brother’s childish tantrum.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ed fumed.

“I apologize. Excuse me for one moment please,” Al covered the mouthpiece with his hand. “Do you mind? I’m on the phone.”

“AL! Why are you - “

Al dodged Ed’s attempts to grab the phone. “I’m back. As I was saying, I’m afraid we won’t be able to make it tonight.”

“DON’T LISTEN TO HIM BASTARD! HE - “

“I’m sick.”

Ed’s jaw dropped. Al - lying - to Mustang of all people?

“I apologize that it’s last minute, General. But it came on suddenly and I’d hate to get anyone else ill.” Al was silent as the faint sound of Mustang’s voice came from the other end. Ed strained to hear. 

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you so much for understanding. We’ll be sure to give Hawkeye her gift as soon as I’m better,” A pause. “Ah, so she was promoted?” Al spared Ed a smirk. “She only deserves the best of congratulations.”

With that, Al said his formal goodbye and hung up the phone. He turned to his brother, whose flushed cheeks had to be from more than a fever. 

“Al. You didn’t have to do that.” Ed said.

“Yes I did. How long have I known you?”

“You could’ve at least told me what you were doing first! I almost had a heart attack!”

Al rolled his eyes. “Geez. Talk about over-dramatic. You act as if calling in sick is going to your death or something.”

“It’s not calling in sick technically. He’s not my boss anymore.” Ed argued, completely missing the point.

“Same difference,” Al said, exasperated. “And it’s not like I could have done that when I was in the armor anyway.”

“Guess you’re right. And hey - at least I don’t gotta deal with those bastards at Central now.” Ed’s voice lacked energy now. With the emotional outburst calmed, his “I’m not sick” front was starting to slip again. 

Al ran the back of his hand over Ed’s forehead. “The General offered to send a doctor over. Maybe I should have said yes. You’re burning up.”

“Now you’re the one being over-dramatic. I don’t need all that. I’ll be better by tomorrow.” Ed sat on his bed. The cheap hotel lighting only highlighted how pale he was. 

“Only if you stay hydrated.” Al eyed the sink and complementary cups in the corner. If that didn’t suffice, then a trip to the pharmacy would also be in order. He prepared a glass and set it on Ed’s nightstand, who had already taken it upon himself to lie down. No use in pushing himself anymore.

“Get some rest, brother.” Al went to turn off the lights when Ed stopped him.

“Al?”

“Yes?” Al turned to Ed worriedly. “What do you need?”

“You need to work on your acting skills,” Ed pointed out. “You sounded way too energetic on the phone to be sick.”

Al reached for the phone. “I can always call him back and tell him the truth...”

“N-nevermind!”


End file.
